The Three Lost Episodes of Mr Kyon
by Kyon of the Crack
Summary: Three unfinished one-shots, for those who enjoy crack fics.
1. Chapter 1

**So, after going through my old HDD, and confirming the fact that I indeed nuked my entire folder containing my unfinished fanfictions and random bits of drabble (RIP), I was fortunate enough to find a few pieces that I had saved from my emo rampage. This is unedited as-is, with the [...] brackets indicating that I hadn't written anything to connect certain sections. These are unfinished, so bear that in mind, especially the 3** **rd** **one.**

 **I dedicate this to all of my loyal fans. You are the best guys.**

* * *

 **Operation Thunderstorm**

 **Last edit: 3/22/2014 2:01 PM**

When Accelerator came to, three things were obvious. One, he was blindfolded, a black cloth over his eyes; two, he was strung up by his feet, his head red from the abundant blood flow; three, he couldn't recall how he had gotten in such a precarious situation.

"Alright fuckers, you got the drop on me," the albino rasped, his teeth barred in a threating grin.

"T'was too easy. I feel pretty cheap about it."

"He is kind of an airhead by himself, isn't he? remarks Misaka as she quietly sips her tea."

Accelerator's brow furrowed. He knew who the first voice was: it was Kuroyoru Umidori, former member of the Freshmen. He couldn't know what she was trying to accomplish with this stunt. What made things even more complicated was the second voice: that of a Misaka clone.

"What's the deal, goth bitch?"

"It has nothing to do with _you_. I'm not out to settle a score with _you_. Rather—"

"Kuro-chan over here is like an old man with a freshly cut lawn, and you're the owner of a canine who went to defecate on that lawn. As you can imagine, she isn't pleased, says Misaka as she tries to relate the situation to you."

" _What she said_."

"…I didn't understand a word of it," Accelerator said plainly, his brow twitching in frustration. Clicking her tongue, Kuroyoru ripped off the blindfold off the albino, and sat back on her chair. She reached for her teacup and sipped along with Misaka Imouto, who had that emotionless look that would've indicated serious affective problems in any normal girl. From what he could deduce, he was in a dorm room; the windows were covered by dark curtains, and the room's walls were painted in depressing colors.

"Misaka would like to specify that she is doing this out of her own free will and that she hasn't been constrained to do so, says Misaka as she doesn't want to make you worry over nothing."

"And what are you accomplishing"—he looked up at his tied ankles—"with this shit exactly?"

"This is an intervention, says Misaka as she lays down her cup and crosses her fingers pensively."

"Intervention as in—"

[…]

"She hunts in the night, preying on men and women alike to sate her hunger by sucking them dry… of their life force, says Misaka as she realizes how the last part of her sentence sounded."

"At this rate, it will hamper the Misaka Network's ability to function properly, says Misaka."

"Are you seriously expecting me to deal with this?"

"Your bitch, your problem," Kuroyoru snapped.

"Fuck off. Get Frog-Face to deal with her instead."

"We did. He was—"

"Uncooperative," Misaka Imouto finished sternly. "He said that was an expected side-effect from the growth process used for the Third Season. It will stabilize over time, but for now, we need a contingency plan before someone falls victim of her unbridled ways."

"Wait, how am I not a victim in this?"

"There's this notion called karma, says Misaka as uses a condescending tone to—"

"ARE YOU JUST ENGAGING IN RAPE APOLEGETICS FOR THAT BRATTY SISTER OF YOURS ALL THE SUDDEN?!"

"The way you described it to me in private, weren't you spellbound by those mysterious feelings that arose from the pit of your stomach towards that person's feminine charms? says Misaka as she looks over to a certain albino with a smug smirk."

"DO YOU WANT TO EAT A THOUSAND NITROGEN LANCES, YOU OVERSIZED PIKACHU?!"

"Everybody shut the fuck!" Accelerator roared, twisting and turning from his uncomfortable position.

"Anyways, let's not get caught up in petty strife. This person over here has to take responsibility and contain this wild beast."

"Do it yourself. I don't give a fuck."

"Pervert. Not only are you lusting after the Commander, but you find pleasure in incest fantasies as well? mumbles Misaka as she peaks at your dark, twisted nature."

"WHEN DID I EVER SAY SUCH A THING?!"

[…]

"I dare you. You know why? Because I will never, NEVER be in such a situation. I will never be some girl's—"

"Toy? Oh believe me, _Misaka has a way,_ says Misaka as she lets her foreboding tone sink in."

Dark, elongated shadows over both of them

"Prepare for Operation Thunderstorm."


	2. Chapter 2

**A certain Magic God's dream**

 **Last edit: 10/3/2013,** **6:22 PM**

"…he's been acting really strange."

"You noticed it too?"

Misaka Mikoto and Accelerator stood together and gazed at a certain spiky-haired boy. Both were undeniably enemies, but they had to put their personal matters on hold when _he_ was involved.

"That idiot… he always keeps important things to himself," Mikoto thought aloud.

"If you're _that_ concerned," said Accelerator in a mocking tone, "go ask him what's what yourself."

"Oh, you want _me_ to go bother him because you're too much of an antisocial jerk to go ask him yourself?"

"…alright, we'll shake it out of him together."

So they went to Kamijou Touma, who sat with his legs crossed and arms on his lap; a dire look was on his ghastly-colored face.

Accelerator tapped his back with his foot lightly to get his attention. "Oi, shithead."

Touma slowly turned his head up at the two espers towering above. He nodded, and he seemed very intent on keeping his eyes fixed upward. "O-Oh, Accelerator, Mikoto… What a nice day, ha ha…"

Mikoto let loose a spark of annoyance from her forehead. "You're really are hiding something from us, huh..."

"Look, his skin is starting to flush," Accelerator snorts. "He's such a bad liar that it's embarrassing to watch him squirm."

"I-I'm feeling down—a little bit f-feverish," sputters Touma as he stares at the horizon. "Don't mind me; Kamijou-san is used to these kinds of misfortunes happening."

It was then that sharp-eared Itsuwa rushed in and crouched down to Touma's side, a certain something in her hands. "Do you need a wet towel to keep yourself cool and wash the sweat off your body?" the Amakusa suggested, extending such a towel to him.

Touma's jaw locked in place, eyes frozen on Itsuwa's body.

His shock ended when a certain silver-haired nun came out of the ocean, floaters on her arms.

"Toumaaa," she drawled out, arms on her hips as she stood over the paralyzed Touma, "why haven't you come in to play with me? You're not going to repeat your behavior from last time, right?"

Immediately, Touma shot up and rubbed his belly intently. "I-I think I'm feeling something in my stomach!

"What—"

"O-Oh, it's probably a real bad case of explosive diarrhea!"

"Uh—"

"I-I BETTER RUN OFF TO THE BATHROOM RIGHT THIS INSTANTTT!"

Kamijou Touma left a cloud of sand and confusion in his wake.

"Che…" Mikoto rubbed sand out of her eyes. "He's probably right about being sick..."

•••

"…so, this was your plan along?" Kamijou Touma muttered those words as the Magic God Othinus twirled her lance like a veteran majorette.

"I despise false appearances. I want to see and hear who people truly are. Breaking those very human illusions… that was my dream." Othinus smiled ever so slightly. "And now it is done."

Kamijou should have contested her vision in some way, but right now his brain is too garbled. Even if he were to stand up to Othinus, he couldn't hope winning against her. Salty waves rose up to their ankles as they observed the scenic surroundings.

"One question, Magic God-san…"

"Ask away."

Kamijou then pointed to familiar figures frolicking on the beach besides them. And, pulling at his hair, he screamed out, "WHYYYYY?"

"That isn't a proper question."

Kamijou took in a deep breath. "Why… all this… nudity?"

"Clothes are such a bother and unnatural," said Othinus, not even slightly concerned about her nakedness and that of everyone else in the world, including Touma. "It's an arbitrary social construction. If I want a perfect world with no lies, the first step is destroying the pitiful illusions regarding our bodies."

"DON'T APPLY YOUR NUDIST COLONY FANTASIES TO EVERYONE!" bellowed Touma. "NOW I UNDERSTAND THOSE SHAMELESS CLOTHES FROM BEFORE!"

"You say this, but you keep eyeing all those girls—"

"HOW IS A UNFORTUNATE GUY LIKE ME WHO ALWAYS GETS PUMMELLED WHEN HE SEES GIRLS NAKED SUPPOSED TO ENJOY THIS KIND OF RIDICULOUS DREAM WORLD?!"

"That's your problem. People here don't mind a glance—and a wag of the tail is a welcome compliment."

"YOU DAMN MAGIC GOD, DON'T TALK WITH SUCH SERIOUS LOOK ON YOUR FACE! THIS ISN'T FUNNY AT ALL!"

"How ironic that you are the only one still holding onto that prudish illusion called clothes." Othinus cheeks were puffed up and she laughed silently at the wielder of Imagine Breaker. "Shouldn't a boy your age be kneeling before me and revere me as a godsend?"

Kamijou couldn't put up a fight against such warped insanity; he groaned and shook his head, mumbling about how he might die of moe. "As long as you don't act up and try to break this perfect world, you can go prey on the defenseless women," noted Othinus as she strolled away, tracing the tip of Gungir in the sand. "I won't mind. It would be best for your sanity to accept your true self, Kamijou Touma. Now, if you excuse me…" Othinus began to whistle and twirl her weapon. "I'll go find myself a boyfriend and make up for the time I invested to reach my dream."

After a minute, Othinus had wandered away from his view. This was the situation the secret pervert and nudist Magic God Othinus had created with her infinite possibilities: a nightmarish world of that would fit the wildest dreams of Aogami Pierce. With reluctance, Touma stared ahead and tried to psyche himself up for what was to come.

Unsuccessfully.

•••

It was a simple picnic on the beach. Everyone was in a relatively good mood and hungry after bathing and playing for hours under the hot sun. Picnic had been prepared by the Ryouran Maid School and the Royal Maids of England as a practical exercise on request of the Chairman Crowley and Archbishop Stewart. But there was something conspicuous that stuck out. Kamijou Touma sat there, with a towel over his lap for no apparent reason, eyes only on his tasty sandwich.

"Yo, Kami-yan~" Tsuchimikado bumped his elbow into the silent boy's ribs.

[…]

 _This can't be happening. No, this goes against everything that been carved into my flesh! I can't take this for much long, I—_

"NO! I'LL NEVER ACCEPT THIS WORLD! I'M NOT THAT KIND OF SHAMELESS GUYYYYYYYYY!"

•••

[…]

"Please, if you're going to wag your tail for me," Othinus mumbles shyly, a slight blush over her face, "then do take responsibility… you pervert."

"NO! THIS IS JUST A THOUGHTLESS REFLEX! DON'T LOOK AT ME WITH THOSE BIG EYES!"

[…]


	3. Chapter 3

**Nameless Drabble**

 **Last Edit: 8/** **25/2013,** **9:54 PM**

"—the authorities say the suspect has no recollection of the events and he will undergo psychiatric evaluation before any criminal charges are filled. Meanwhile, in the Middle East—"

"Boring, says Misaka as Misaka continues changing channels to find entertainment."

It was after a supper of sukiyaki. The otherwise voluble Last Order was drowsy yet insisted on staying awake—going to bed earlier than a certain young bra-wearing blonde would be disastrous for her self-esteem. Her stomach was pronounced from the two plates and a half she had devoured, and her belly button almost seemed to pop out. Besides her, Accelerator seemed distracted by the descending sun on the horizon.

"She's breaking curfew again," Yomikawa whistled while passing a wet cloth all over the kitchen counter.

Accelerator lazily glanced behind his back and raised his arms and shoulders with apathy.

"You were the one staring out there," she remarked with a knowing smile.

Sudden aggravation flashed in his eyes, like sudden guilt in a child's eyes. "And that's supposed to mean?"

"Your body language is easy to read. It says a lot more than words. They say you can spot a liar just from the tension in their muscles," said Yomikawa with an amused tone. "But don't listen to me—it's not like I have experience with teenagers!"

"So I'm a liar now?" muttered Accelerator.

Yomikawa shook her head. "Not the dishonest, manipulative kind. You just can't admit you are preoccupied about something or even worrying about _someone_."

Accelerator pressed his lips in a flat line, his eyes narrowing. He huffed and veered his head away.

"Don't stifle it—it's a _quality_." As of the last word of her sentence, every centimeter of the kitchen counter was now sparkling clean. Yomikawa tossed the cloth in the sink and sighed, content with her work. "So, are you going to sit here pouting at me for the next hour or what?"

"Don't bother me with your retarded shit, old hag," Accelerator hissed at her.

The teacher ambled to the balcony windows and appreciated the twilight. With a hand on her hips, she turned to him and tilted her head in wonder. "Should I take that as a yes?"

Accelerator clucked his tongue and hobbled away, mumbling curses and shaking his head in disapproval. Moments later, Accelerator shut his bedroom door with a resounding slam. Pleased with the exchange, Yomikawa sat down on the couch where the albino had just been sitting and let out a tired sigh. Her day had been tedious to say the least, since it had involved that troublesome boy from Tsukuyomi's class who had the uncanny ability of always being at the center of mortal trouble. It was days like this that made her appreciate every second she didn't have to move her sore body.

Last Order had been listening, but she was too dazed to bother intervening. She let out an uncomfortable whine, and Yomikawa laughed at the undead-like expression on the little girl's face.

"Too much, laments Misaka as Misaka learns why she should eat between meals."

"It's never a good idea to stuff yourself like a pig just because you can," said Yomikawa with a mild scolding tone.

"But Yomikawa's cooking is too good and Misaka couldn't stop, says Misaka as Misaka blames you for her current state."

"Oi oi, now you're embarrassing me..."

Last Order's eyelids twitched. "Misaka will go sleep now, says Misaka as Misaka lets out a yawn smelling like sukiyaki..."

"So I have the TV for myself? Since Kikyou is out of town, I was thinking of watching a few romantic comedies to pass time."

Yomikawa's answer was silence followed by quiet snoring.

•••

Accelerator sat on the edge of his bed, his legs crisscrossed and his cell phone clutched in a tight fist. He tasted the sourness of defeat in his mouth, and it tasted like blood in his mouth. _Despite being an Anti-Skill, she seems oddly tolerant of a minor breaking curfew,_ Accelerator thought about Yomikawa's behavior.

Despite admitting defeat, the albino refused to think of this itch bugging him as anything remotely close to personal concern for Worst. He knew how it felt, and it wasn't what _this_ was. Personal concern would imply he cared about _her_. In a strange way he did, despite their mutual animosity and conflicting temperaments. But he had no illusions: the only thing restraining him when she started pushing his buttons was her being a clone.

Accelerator chewed on his lower lip and applied pressure to his sinuses. Thinking about this was giving him a headache. How could he not be _slightly_ concerned with Worst's increasing escapades? This was Misaka Worst left to her own devices—that alone should raise alarm bells.

 _Knowing that brat,_ thought Accelerator, _she must be around the kind of troublemakers and shitheads that…_

After swallowing his pride, he dialed Misaka Worst's number. There was no answer. And then he heard that familiar voice brimming with malicious intent: "Yo, Misaka's busy so she'll take your message later. Oh, and if you're about to ask me out on a date—don't bother. Misaka isn't interested, even if you look cute and can sing love poems in Spanish while standing on one foot. Leave your message after the dial~"

Accelerator eyes stayed fixed on his phone's display for a moment, his brow visibly perplexed. This answering message was brand new. One thing came to his mind after he mulled over it: _What kind of guy would even_ want _to date her anyway?_ A chill went down his spine as he tried to imagine who would throw themselves into her clutches.

Accelerator glared at his wall and sighed. Five minutes later, he had put a new set of clothes and tinkered with his cell. Two minutes later, he rushed out the door—the derisive chorus of Yomikawa's sniggering serving as his farewell.

•••

As to avoid being bothered by Anti-Skill patrols enforcing the student curfew, Accelerator slinked from alley to alley until he was out of the prim and proper Seventh District into the Tenth. He wasn't surprised that Worst was there—after all, Anti-Skill couldn't fully enforce the law, much less a curfew there. That's not to say they weren't looking out for gangs or wanted Skill-Outs to embark. But if you kept to mundane curfew breaking, the probabilities of being accosted and questioned were close to zero. Anti-Skill knew it was more trouble that it was worth; they let criminal elements sink their teeth in the Tenth so that they wouldn't stray to the others.

Accelerator glanced down at his phone, where Worst's location was marked. With a few improvised hacks in the phone network, he had linked to the GPS on her phone and it sent him a steady signal. Cracking basic encryption keys is as easy as chewing on a piece of gum when you can outperform most if not all supercomputers in the world.

The neighborhood wasn't the dump he had in mind. It wasn't too deep into District 10, so it hadn't been left to complete disarray. At the very least, the street lights weren't broken and the few weirdos in his path hadn't acted up.

 _It's right around this corner_.Accelerator halted his gait for a moment and breathed the cool night air.

Apart from a few vague statements, Worst didn't prattle on about her nightly activities. And it drove his speculations. Most of what he imagined was none of his business, though some certainly were. He wasn't about to subject her to some paternal claptrap, but… this was Misaka Worst. He couldn't even trust her not to get them kicked out of a grocery store. How was he supposed to give her the benefit of the doubt when she has absolutely zero common sense?

 _She was more of a danger to herself than anyone else,_ mused Accelerator as he shoved his cell back in his coat and pressed on.

Lo and behold down a narrow street was a refurbished two storey building in varying shades of bricks lit up with strong lights. Artful graffiti decorated the walls, ranging from an impressive but pornographic drawing of a woman to a battalion of pigs clad in Anti-Skill riot gear uniforms. All of which enhanced the tough image the nightclub wanted to project. Accelerator's garish visions of a rundown place with broken windows and collapsed walls full of drug addicts was more his imagination that reality. If he had any expectations, the albino would've whistled. The title of the club, which Accelerator didn't even want to think of as he would've felt ridiculous for having uttered it, had a glowing neon Martini besides it.

[…]

But the two bouncers seemed very serious.

"This is a private club. Unless you have an invite, you aren't getting in."

"You won't make an exception?"

"No."

[…]

"What would someone like you want to do in there?"

"Are you implying something?"

"Look, piece of advice: this isn't the place for a cripple. Don't take it personally, but there some scums in there that wouldn't think twice about stabbing you for that coat."

"Or crutch," added the other bouncer.

Accelerator laughed.

[…]

"I could pulverize you into specs of dust by wringing my wrist. I could bring down twenty blocks of buildings with a punch. So, don't start pilling on your fucking fake-y concern. Now, you're going to let me in or call your boss down to talk to The Accelerator face to face. What will it be?"

[...]

•••

"Can I serve you anything sir?"

"No, I—"

A fake, plastic smile. Even though he had never seen this person before…

"Unabara?"

"So, you recognized me."

"Your smile is fake no matter the face you put on."

"Oh, but this is my own skin."

"That's even more unsettling."

"So, what brings you here?"

"Rather not talk."

"Anything to drink?"

Bottles lined up behind the counter.

"Does this place even have a permit?"

Fake smile. "That isn't my problem."

Accelerator looked around. "I have the hunch at least fifty percent of people here aren't at the legal age."

"My, you're really being bothersome. Since when did you become all moralistic Accelerator-san?"

"Since I let the hypocrite in me take reins."

"Hm-hm."

[…]

"I have the impression you are here for Worst-san, though I doubt you two are dating—"

"Shut the fuck up."

"My apologies. She's on the second floor if you are wondering."

[…]

•••

[…]

"That bartender guy."

"You mean that weirdo who ogles Misaka every chance he gets?"

Accelerator nodded. "I used to work with him on wetworks."

"For that GROUP organization, right?"

"Yeah."

"What's his deal?"

"He has a thing for the Original. Ask her for the full story."

Worst shivered. "You must know a handful of weirdos."

"Look who is talking."

She looked at him weirdly and snorted. "Oh wow, Mr. Honor Student can actually be sassy when he wants to be."

[…]

"Wait, why aren't you reacting?! Misaka lights up a joint in your face, and all you do is stare at me all dazzled?"

"…That's all? You party around with friends and smoke pot? Not even some alcohol?"

"Egh, alcohol makes me sick and it tastes either bitter or like paint thinner."

He stared.

"Wait…" Cheshire grin. "Did you actually think Misaka was out there getting her nose full of blow and—" Worst couldn't finish as Accelerators' expression broke into guilt, and she howled in laughter.

[…]

"Besides, Misaka already has all the power she wants. And if some idiot tries to mess with her, she always has her bodyguard."

"Hm?"

Punted him on the arm.

"Oh, so I'm your bodyguard? That wasn't part of our deal."

"Misaka doesn't remember you helping her improve her skills according to Dark May."

"You never asked."

"'Cause you'd put on your pompous sensei persona, and Misaka would just pretend to listen."

"Besides, you have to observe my power. It's not something that can be taught."

"So, you want Misaka to observe you? Oh, you flattering pervert! Misaka knows you'd appreciate if she 'observed' you!" Worst said with finger quotes.

"Now you're just being silly."

[…]

"Do you really want to see me in an altered state of mind?"

"If it rectified that Tightass Syndrome of yours, yeah," Worst said.

"I'll pass."

[..]

They left.

"You like the name of this place?"

"It's… bold."

"It's to ward off prudes," Worst explained.

"Whatever."

She gripped his forearm. "Say it."

"What?"

"The name. Say it."

"Why?"

"Pfff. Mr. Honor Student can't even say that word without getting flustered~"

He struggled to pronounce it.

"Say that again?"

" **Squirter!** It's fucking **Squirter**! Now can I never pronounce that fucking word ever again?"

"Wait, you like _squirters_? Now that Misaka didn't know about you!"

"WHAT!"

Some groups leaving were looking at him with huge eyes, debating whether to run or laugh.

Accelerator grappled Worst by her collar and muttered incomprehensible threats.

She pulled at his cheek and said in a singsong voice, "Tomato~"

•••

"Worst."

"Oh, what about me?"

"You're going to trip."

Worst stepped backward, and slipped on a flattened cardboard box.

Accelerator yanked on her arm.

"Stop walking like that, because I'm letting you fall on your ass next time."

"Pfff. That serious look doesn't suit you at all!"

"I should have just let you fall…"

Worst hooked her arm around his. "Oh, but that isn't like you. Besides, it'd be a waste to let the walkway be the one to spank Misaka's butt, right?"

"You're unbelievable."

"Oh, are you blushing?"

"I'm embarrassed for you."

"So dishonest~" She pulled on his cheeks.

"Way too close."

"What of it, handsome?"

"…Did you just call me handsome?"

"Well, not right now, but in a suit…"

"Alright, you are just out of your mind. I'm calling a cab—"

Worst began to sucks on his nape. "You're so tense. Don't you want to _relax_ a bit? Backalley sex is pretty hot you know."

[…]

Touma and Mikoto stared at the scene of Worst sexually harassing Accelerator.

"I—"

"Buzz off you party poopers! This hunk is mineee~"

Accelerator mouthed a demand for immediate help, and his desperate eyes met their incredulous stares.

"…"

"…"

The two paced ahead and didn't look back, leaving the albino to deal with his own troubles.

 _Betrayal…!_


End file.
